On a Tuesday afternoon

This poem was originally published on Graphite Publications on October 2, 2018.

Like the sweet symphony of the birds at dawn
Ripe summer day, soliloquy
Tempers the swift façade of forgetfulness
And sideways glances followed by gentle brushing
Of knees, elbows, fingertips and
I bite my tongue, but am unable to prevent
The burning gaze, the cloudy haze
The flint, the warmth that kindles
Fears and giddy palms and eager words yet unspilled


Baby pink Sakura falls to find
Red tulpen in the tropical rain, sidewalk pavement smell
Painting the concrete landscape with a scarlet
So pigmented, my eyes won’t believe
That a place like this
Had given me you
Among fields of orchids stacked on lush
Collarbones and hushed
Blushing tone of heartbeats
Too impossibly in sync


You wiped my tear-stained cheeks and I could see
My snot stains on your favourite shirt that said to me
I love you more than I thought I could bear
I love you so much, I’d forego sleep
To watch the sunrise after it had already risen,
To share with you my deepest dreams and
Coca-Cola lollipops and
Swedish candy drops and
Single beds and
Patterned socks


Today
I could pick your hands out from a sea of
Hands
With open palms and tear-stained books
Waiting to be read, to be held, to be told
A messy fairytale on a dusty shelf in the drafty corner in the back
The one that that starts with
“Come to the liberry”:


The one we wrote
The one we live
The one we’ll tell
To the ones we grow
About the only one
With whom we decided, promised
To see the world
To feel it thunder, breeze, simmer, snow
To always be kind and
To never let go